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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849234">The Goodbye Girl</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vividlittlevox/pseuds/vividlittlevox'>vividlittlevox</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Adam Driver - Fandom, Charlie Barber - Fandom, Marriage Story - Fandom, a marriage story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Add a bit of spice, Broadway, Charlie Barber - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Fluff, I will update these as I go., Masturbation, New York, Romance, Rough Sex, Smut, fluffy feels, marriage story, slowburn, spicy shower thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:02:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849234</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vividlittlevox/pseuds/vividlittlevox</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie Barber was new to dating. It had been a little over a year since he and his ex-wife, Nicole, had called it quits. At one time, he might have been a suave player in the game, but at some point between his marriage ending and finding himself back on the market-things had changed. And boy had they changed.</p><p>(Charlie Barber x you/Marriage Story AU—Told from Charlie’s perspective with glimpses into the reader’s life)</p><p>(This fic is loosely based on the film A Marriage Story and takes place sometime after the end of the film. This story will contain adult content so please be advised this is intended for audiences 18+.)</p><p>ALSO AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Starting Over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey there! First of all, I wanted to say thank you so much for checking out my fic. This is my first attempt at writing something like this so please feel free to tear me apart. :)</p><p>Let's go over a couple of things before we jump in:</p><p>This is loosely based on the film, A Marriage Story. There will be mentions of Nicole, mostly as Charlie reflects on his marriage and occasionally when dealing with Henry. </p><p>Speaking of Charlie, a lot of this is from his perspective so if that's not something you're looking to dive into, this may be a fic you want to skip. </p><p>In this story, we're seeing his life after Nicole and how Charlie navigates this new world and the possibility of finding love again. (At some point, he will most likely dive into his past affair in discussion only. If that's triggering to you, please let me know and I'll try to find a way to tag accordingly.) </p><p>There will be sap. There will be tears (probably). There will be anger, smut, you name it. </p><p>And lastly, you will be a big role in this story. </p><p>Expect a slow burn. I'm on this ride with you so if you're ready take a seat and buckle up. </p><p>Thanks again and happy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie Barber was new to dating. It had been a little over a year since he and his ex-wife, Nicole, had called it quits. At one time, he might have been a suave player in the game, but at some point between his marriage ending and finding himself back on the market things had changed. And boy had they changed. You had to swipe now. You had to learn how to describe yourself in a certain number of characters. And...not only did you have to do it with accurate depictions, you also had to make yourself sound "appealing". The small sea of fish he once knew had suddenly become a vast ocean of varied aquatic inhabitants, somehow more intimidating than ever before. </p><p>It wasn't enough to find someone else attractive, have something in common, and invite them out for drinks. Now it was all about who you knew, who you didn't know, and what you as a person brought to the table. </p><p>"You're open to hiking, but you're not vegan? Sorry this isn't going to work out."</p><p>"Do you know Sondheim? Personally? Well...Do you know anyone who knows Andrew Lloyd Webber? I'm so confused. Your bio says you work on Broadway."</p><p>"Hey sexy! ;) Check out my exclusive photos, just for you. Click the link here."</p><p>Some apps made you verify you were a real person. Others made you wait for the person behind the screen to make the first move. It was exhausting. </p><p>Since taking off his wedding band what felt like an eternity ago, Charlie had found it hard to connect with anyone. Sure, he had a rebound immediately after things were done. He felt like he was supposed to and thought it would help numb the pain. It lasted a maybe week. He had tried the quick fuck, the illustrious "hookup", but even that wasn't enough to satisfy. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to fill the gaping void in his chest where his heart used to be. </p><p>Maybe Nicole had been right. Maybe he was a terrible person after all. She had since taken it back and their relationship, for their son Henry's sake, was very different now—but it still bothered him at night. </p><p>Was he even worthy of love? Does a man who cheats on his wife deserve a second chance after he so casually throws away the first? Maybe he would never know. </p><p>With all of the divorce proceedings having happened in Los Angeles, Charlie knew he had to take his life back and in order to do that he also knew he first had to rebuild. So after the dust had settled, Charlie made the choice to move back to New York. Henry would stay with him in the summer and for part of his fall and Christmas breaks. </p><p>He sold their brownstone and did his best, real estate market be damned, to find a new place to live. He had a few friends from the theatre come and help him sift through the memories and knick knacks Nicole had left behind. And, when everything was said and done, he sat in his new home with new furniture in the echo of the quiet. It was a fresh start. </p><p>He rose from the leather sofa and surveyed his surroundings. The boxes around him would be unpacked soon enough. The walls were bare and needed warmth so he mentally promised himself he'd buy a piece of art at some point. He walked to the kitchen and opened the stainless steel fridge. The handle almost felt as cold and empty as he did inside. </p><p>Charlie chuckled and shook his head at the thought. </p><p>"Wow, that's dark. Even for you," he muttered. </p><p>He peered inside. Staring back at him was a carton of milk, a half dozen eggs, a jar of natural peanut butter, some jelly, and a loaf of bread. He furrowed his brow. </p><p>"I could have sworn I put them in here."</p><p>He shifted the items around, and sure enough, tucked behind everything was a case of beer. </p><p>"There you are."</p><p>He grabbed a bottle, closed the door with his hip, and reached for the bottle opener on the counter. The bottle fizzed like an old friend saying "hello". He brought the porter up to his lips and took a big gulp. </p><p>He looked down and saw the plethora of takeout menus scattered among bills and other documents. Setting down the beer, he picked them up and began sorting through them. </p><p>"Trash, trash, electric, trash, BCEFA....Chinese? Hmm..."</p><p>He flipped the menu over in his hands, examining it carefully as he took another swig. </p><p>"Xiao long bao and noodles? Don't mind if I do."</p><p>He took his phone out of the pocket of his slacks and started to dial the number, but before he could finish, he got a text. </p><p>Across town, a few members of the show he had been directing were having dinner together and invited him to attend. He bit his lip for a moment, thinking it over. </p><p>"Better not," he typed. "Still getting settled. Rain check?"</p><p>He closed the message and ordered dinner. </p><p>An hour and a half later, after food had arrived and he had long since polished off his noodles and another beer, his phone chimed with another text. </p><p>"It's literally raining now so I'm cashing in on your rain check. We won't take no for an answer. Meet us for drinks."</p><p>Charlie sighed and mulled it over. The address of the cabaret they had sent over was farther than he had wanted to go. Given the rain, cost of the cab, and how long it would take, he just didn't feel up to it. </p><p>He texted back. </p><p>You're all very sweet to think of me. I was just about to call it a night, but another time...definitely.</p><p>He stood up with a groan and put his phone back into his pocket before looking down at the mess he has made. He was usually very tidy and after a moment realized he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't clean up. </p><p>He tossed the remnants of his meal in the trash, vowing to himself he'd take it out in the morning, and headed upstairs to bed. </p><p>The bedroom was still. Aside from a lamp on the nightstand and his bed, it was fairly empty if you didn't count the boxes. He had to unpack. It had been two weeks. No one was going to do it for him or and he didn't want help. No, he knew he had to do it on his own. </p><p>He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, lightly squeezing the top of his head before he began getting ready for bed. His belt made its way into the floor next to him. His clothes fell seamlessly into the pop-up hamper on one side of the room. He'd get a real one eventually. He crawled into the chilly sheets naked save for his underwear and reached over to shut out the light. </p><p>For a while he laid there, listening to the sound of rain and the city outside his window. Over all the years he spent in New York, it had become almost symphonic—a lullaby rather than a nuisance. Nicole had never liked it...but luckily, she her opinion of his favorite city amongst other things didn't matter anymore. </p><p>He closed his eyes and pulled the duvet up over himself. Charlie had splurged on the sheets and other accoutrements for the bedding and it had all been worth it. If he was going to sleep alone, he figured he should at least sleep well and in high thread count linens to boot. </p><p>He ran his hand along his abdomen, gently scratching the patch of hair below his navel. His groin stirred with interest beneath his boxer briefs. His fingers snaked their way below the elastic of his waistband and he realized being single for so long had its drawbacks. He didn't want to tease himself. He just wanted to get off. As much as he would have loved taking it slow any other night, his mind had other ideas; his fingers moved all too quickly. He wrapped his hand around himself and carefully began making smooth strokes up and down his length. A soft moan escaped his lips and he closed his eyes. He tried to picture something to keep him going. Anything. Anyone. Soon he settled on a faceless woman. Her body was curvy in all of the places he loved most. She was moving fervently on him, riding him for all he was worth. Her hair bounced in unison with her breasts as she rose up and slammed herself down again and again. Charlie started pumping his cock faster, thrusting each time into his fist. The urgency was unbearable. He wasn't going to last. He needed to cum. He kicked off the sheets and tugged down his underwear. It had been so long since he had been touched and he just needed release. </p><p>Another stroke. Another thrust. And another. Faster. Harder. Faster...until—"FUCK!" Charlie's orgasm hit him suddenly. He cried out, his hips jerking off of the bed as he rode out the waves of pleasure pulsing through his body. When he finally caught his breath, he looked down and saw his whole fist and stomach were covered in cum. </p><p>He rolled his eyes and carefully climbed out of bed to clean up his mess, grateful he didn't ruin the sheets in the process. He knew had he needed to change them, he would have just slept on the couch. He washed up, splashed some water on his face, and placed his underwear with his other clothes in the hamper. </p><p>"Trash tomorrow and laundry now too," he thought. </p><p>A yawn escaped his lips as he crawled back into bed. Once comfortable, Charlie reached for one of the other pillows beside him and pulled it in close. He hated sleeping alone and wasn't sure he'd ever get used to it. As he closed his eyes and gave in to sleep, he hoped that maybe one day soon he wouldn't have to. </p><p>The next few weeks seemed to fly by. Charlie had unpacked his apartment—a true accomplishment in itself. He was proud. Finally, it looked like someone actually lived there. </p><p>Work was looking up. He had been making headway with his theatre company, Exit Ghost, until one of his romantic leads had to bow out due to her elderly mother falling ill. He was grateful they were still in rehearsals. </p><p>Recasting the role, if he did, would be a bitch, but he knew he could get it done. It wasn't like he was unfamiliar with having to pivot. In fact, he was quite good at it. Sometimes Charlie relished the unexpected, especially when it worked in his favor. Truthfully, while the girl had looked the part, her emotional range and ability to convey authentically were lacking. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. In his eyes, it could only be an opportunity to make things better. </p><p>Outside of work, he had been keeping to himself. He couldn't help but wonder if other years of his life had gone by as quickly as this one. Lately, he found writing things down on a calendar helped him stay positive and gave him something to look forward to. Henry would be coming in a couple of weeks for his fall break and quality time with his son would do him good. </p><p>Every day for Charlie had been an opportunity to rediscover himself not only as a person, but also as a director. Determined not to rest on his laurels, he wanted his next work to be a challenge. This new show was unlike any other he had done before. It wasn't a debut, but a revival: Neil Simon's The Goodbye Girl. He knew directing the musical would be a huge risk, especially since musicals weren't his forte, but he had a good feeling. </p><p>It was hard not to love Neil Simon, at least for him, and the show had been nominated for a couple of Tony Awards during the 1993 Broadway run—so there was hope for him yet. </p><p>The stress of directing had started getting to him earlier than usual so Charlie had also started smoking again, but only to take the edge off. He had completely thrown himself into making this new show a masterpiece. </p><p>On a personal level, he might as well have been virtually unavailable. Still he tried his damnedest to find some semblance of a love life. </p><p>He had exchanged a couple of messages with a few different women online and two or three had replied. He even had a date tonight, but he'd be lying if he didn't say he had mixed feelings about the whole thing. His date was pretty enough, accomplished, and a therapist—which genuinely made him chuckle all things considered. Her name was Cheryl. She was a couple years older than Charlie, a fellow divorcée, and more than eager to meet. Call it an inkling; something told him she was looking for than a few dates and something more like Mr. Right. If that was the case, sometimes it felt like he was struggling just to be Charlie Barber. He had hoped whoever he clicked with would settle for "Broadway is dark on Mondays. I get really busy sometimes, but I promise I'll call." </p><p>All in all, today was a good day. The cast had adapted beautifully to Paula's understudy temporarily stepping up and he felt confident enough to call a break to go get coffee to show his appreciation. </p><p>While walking to the coffee shop, he heard the all too familiar chime of one of his dating apps. He pulled his phone from his pocket. It was Cheryl checking in. </p><p>Cheryl: Hey hot stuff! Hope we're still on for tonight. Here's the address for the place I was telling you about. Don't worry about a reservation. I already took care of it. Can't wait to see you! 💋</p><p>"Reservation?" He thought. "For drinks?"</p><p>Charlie's brow wrinkled as he looked up the address she supplied and realized they were no longer meeting at a wine bar for dessert like they had discussed. </p><p>"Where the hell is this place anyway?" </p><p>He was so deep in his phone as he booked it to the shop that he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and collided with someone on the street. You. </p><p>"Whoa!"</p><p>The sheer force from his massive body crashing into you in was enough to nearly knock you off your feet. </p><p>Charlie, mortified, reached out to help steady you. </p><p>"I am so sorry!" he exclaimed. "Are you alright?" You looked up at him blankly before breaking into a bright laugh. He gave you a half smile. </p><p>"Goodness! I almost...wow," you replied. </p><p>Your laugh was a welcome melody to his ears.  He helped you stand up straight. "You're okay?" He asked softly. You were beautiful. </p><p> You smiled at him. </p><p>"I think so, yeah. Sorry. I can be such a klutz."</p><p>Charlie shook his head. "Not at all. It was totally my fault. I'm glad you're okay."</p><p>He looked down at his hands and realized he was still holding onto your arms. He gently let go and stood back a bit, giving you space. </p><p>"You good?"</p><p>Charlie nodded and you touched his arm. </p><p>"Good."</p><p>You inspected your surroundings and spotted your items on the ground. </p><p>"These violent delights have violent ends," you said cheekily as you picked up your spilled coffee cup and lid. </p><p>Charlie's mind raced. "Did she just casually quote Shakespeare?"</p><p>You were still looking around for something. "Where's my...?"</p><p>Charlie noticed your phone on the ground and bent down to pick it up. "Here, let me." </p><p>You blushed. "Thank you."</p><p>He handed the phone to you, your fingers touching briefly, and took good long look at you. To him, you were something else. It was safe to say he was enamored just by your small interaction. He pictured you inspiring some poor schmuck as he penned the next big Broadway love ballad...or at least that's how his heartbeat felt in his throat. </p><p>After a minute or two, you let out a squeak of contentment grabbing his attention. He had been staring and snapped out of it. To his credit, you had been staring too. He looked you over and it clicked. </p><p>"Oh shit. I...wow, I completely spilled your coffee and..."</p><p>He took your empty cup and chucked it in the trash can by the door. </p><p>"...please, let me buy you a new one?"</p><p>He could have sworn you were beaming. </p><p>"I'd love that," you said. Charlie moved to open the coffee shop door. </p><p>"Please, after you."</p><p>Together, you made your way over to the counter and he began placing the large order for the crew before turning to you. </p><p>"And also whatever she'd like..."</p><p>"A dirty chai latte please."</p><p>"And maybe a blueberry scone since I'm oaf for knocking into you?"</p><p>"Chocolate croissant," you quipped. </p><p>"Oh...well then," he said smirking. "Make that one blueberry scone and a chocolate croissant for the lady, if you please." Your flirting caught Charlie off guard, but he didn't mind at all. </p><p>Your eyes stayed on him as he interacted with the barista and it didn't go unnoticed. He could feel his heart beating a little faster in his chest. </p><p>The two of you moved away from the counter to sit at a small table nearby. He gingerly handed you your croissant before starting to pick at his scone once you were situated. </p><p>You toyed with the folded bag as your eyes never left his face. </p><p>"12 coffees, huh?" You smiled. "Do you just really love caffeine or are you that guy who spends their day double fisting beverages every half hour or something?" </p><p>Charlie nearly choked on his scone at the remark as you snickered. </p><p>You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks realizing what you had said. "I meant..."</p><p>He cut you off, his eyes crinkling as he chuckled. </p><p>"Or something." </p><p>You couldn't help but let out a laugh yourself. He gazed at you fondly as you did. Charlie couldn't explain why, but he knew he wanted to remember this moment. The way your nose wrinkled up just a little. The flush of your cheeks. He took note of you attire. Your tan overcoat was fitted perfectly to your body. Underneath was a black turtleneck, black skirt and tights with black heels. Gorgeous. </p><p>"I'm Charlie," he said extending his hand. You told him your name and shook his hand, noticing how small yours was inside his. </p><p>"You've got really beautiful eyes." </p><p>He was taken aback by how momentarily forward you were. "T-thank you."</p><p>You brought your hand to your mouth. Your filter was very clearly failing you today. </p><p>"I'm sorry. That was totally creepy of me to say, wasn't it? I'm not good at this part."</p><p>Charlie chortled. "I mean, please. Tell me more—you're better than you think."</p><p>You perked up at his words. "Am I?"</p><p>He nodded, smiling warmly. "Definitely and I should know."</p><p>"Oh? Because you're a director."</p><p>"I am." </p><p>He had never been a shameless flirt and couldn't help wonder how this came so naturally to you. It was obvious you were getting flustered. </p><p>"Is that right?" </p><p>"Mmhmm."</p><p>"So this is like my audition?"</p><p>"Uh huh."</p><p>"Right now."</p><p>"I'd say "Wow me", but auditions are supposed to be difficult."</p><p>Your mouth dropped open as you saw how pleased he was with himself. He knew it was cheesy to say, but he couldn't help himself. </p><p>"You were saying...my eyes are...beautiful?"<br/>
Charlie leaned in a little closer, propping himself up on one arm. He wasn't sure what the hell he was even doing, but he was in too deep to stop. Besides, it seemed like you were too. </p><p>Quickly you searched for something to say, determined not to give him the upper hand. </p><p>Just as you had a witty retort, the barista called Charlie's name and you felt the sting of disappointment. You wondered if he did too. </p><p>"That's us." Charlie rose from his seat and offered you his hand to help you up. </p><p>You took his hand and stood up before walking over with him to the counter to up your own coffee. </p><p>"Thanks again for the latte," you said, raising your cup to him. </p><p>Charlie was trying to balance his coffee order and looked at you. </p><p>"Hey...I know this is forward, but could I get your number? I'd really love to take you to dinner." </p><p>You smiled at his boldness and helped secure one of the cups in the carrier that was about to fall. </p><p>"Do you say that to all the women you almost knock over?" You feigned shyness. </p><p>He laughed. "Only the pretty ones."</p><p>You bit your lip. "Say less," you said, smiling as you reached into your bag for your phone. </p><p>"Actually—say more please because if you give me your number, I can text you since you've got your hands full."</p><p>He smirked. "You say that to all the guys who buy you coffee?"</p><p>You blushed. "Just the tall and handsome directors."</p><p>He rattled off his number and you shot him a text. You both smiled could hear the message ding from inside of his pocket. You could have sworn his eyes were twinkling. You walked to the door together, you opening it for him this time. </p><p> </p><p>You were reluctant to say goodbye, but knew you had somewhere to be and, based on those coffees, he did too. </p><p>"I'm really glad you bumped into me, Charlie."</p><p>"Me too," he replied contentedly. For a split second, you could have sworn he looked at your lips. "I'll call you." </p><p>You turned on your heel and headed to rehearsal trying your best not to squeal. </p><p>As Charlie walked away, he said your name to himself and smiled. Yeah, today was a very good day.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Her</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When he returned to the rehearsal space, Charlie's whole demeanor had changed and the entire crew noticed. </p><p>"Grab 'em while they're hot!" he exclaimed as he sat down the carriers. </p><p>Charlie seemed happy and he was. They all gathered around him wondering what had changed since this morning. </p><p>Kip, his "Elliot", came over to grab a cup. </p><p>"Everything good?"</p><p>Charlie was caught off guard, his interaction with you still on his mind. "Hmm? Oh yeah, yeah. I'm great."</p><p>His new "Paula", Audrey, waggled her eyebrows. "Something happened."</p><p>Charlie chuckled as he took off his coat. He shook his head and rolled up his sleeves. "I'm just really happy with all the work you've done today."</p><p>"And that's it?" asked Kip, leaning over on the piano. </p><p>Charlie took a sip of his own coffee and sat back in one of the rehearsal chairs. </p><p>"And that's it..."</p><p>The crew exchanged looks and the room fell silent. </p><p>"Guys! Come on!" exclaimed Charlie, encouragingly.  "It's a good day! Have caffeine and when you're ready take your places and let's make this happen."</p><p>The scenes after he came back from his coffee run were even better than they were this morning. He found himself getting distracted at times thinking about how you blushed when he flirted with you, but quickly brought his attention back to the ensemble. He jotted down a few notes about a couple of the songs. It was definitely dated in spots. Some of the pop culture references and questionable terminology would need to be amended, but that wouldn't be a problem. </p><p>Later that night as he was taking the subway home, Cheryl started texting him. He took a quick glance, but his stop was next so he decided he'd wait until he was home to reply. </p><p>Once he was in the door, he sat down his bag and took off his coat hanging it up in the closet. He walked to the kitchen to mull over a beer before opting to smoke instead and venturing out into the tiny backyard. It was one of the few things that appealed him about brownstone in the first place. Henry deserved a place to play and, who knew, maybe one day he could get him a dog. </p><p>He lit a cigarette and took a long drag before digging into his pocket for his phone. He had completely forgotten giving Cheryl his number, mostly since she kept randomly messaging him in app. </p><p>Cheryl: Hey handsome 😍<br/>
Cheryl: I had to push our reservations back a half hour. Had a last minute client need an emergency session. Thanks for understanding.<br/>
Cheryl: Charlie?<br/>
Cheryl: Hello?</p><p>He took another puff, exhaling the smoke out of his nose as he extinguished the cigarette. He put the butt in an old bottle and walked back in. </p><p>Message after message kept coming in. </p><p>Cheryl: Did you change your mind?</p><p>Charlie furrowed his brow as the phone continued going off. </p><p>Cheryl: You could least respond.<br/>
Cheryl: I really thought you were different.<br/>
Cheryl: Can you at least let me know if you're coming.<br/>
Cheryl: Charlie? </p><p> </p><p>He might have been overreacting, but her replies were getting a little intense and he wasn't sure he wanted any part of it. The last thing he needed when it came to potentially starting new relationship was someone who couldn't understand his phone wasn't attached to his hand. Against his better judgment, he typed up a lie. </p><p>Charlie: Hi Cheryl. Just got off the subway and service wasn't the best. I've been thinking things over and I really don't think this is going to work out. I'm sorry if I wasted your time. </p><p>Send. </p><p>He sat his phone face down and reconsidered having that beer. The room was too quiet. She would either blow up or understand. If he was lucky, she would just delete his number or wouldn't reply at all. </p><p>Feeling impatient, he unlocked his phone and swiped to delete the text. It was done. </p><p>Just then, another "DING". </p><p>Cheryl: I hope you find what you're looking for. </p><p>As he read over the message, he noticed the whole text string was still there. </p><p>Oh no. </p><p>Charlie started to panic. What had he actually deleted?</p><p>"No."</p><p>He kept going back to the inbox screen scrolling up and down, unable to find the text from you with your number. </p><p>"Come on! No, no, no!" he shouted. He did it. He hadn't paid attention when carelessly wiping the text away and deleted your number. </p><p>He thought of your face. Your smile. How you had laughed at his all too cheesy attempts to impress. How it was going so fucking well and how he only had himself to blame for losing your number. He clinched the phone tightly in his fist and shook with rage before hurling his phone across the room. </p><p>"Dammit!" he yelled, feeling somewhat broken. </p><p>What was he gonna do now? Charlie took a deep breath and composed himself. He walked over to the phone to inspect the damage. A large crack ran down the center of his screen. For once, he had never been more grateful for the screen protector Sandra had gifted him ages ago. </p><p>Maybe he would see you again. Maybe he wouldn't. It was a small world, but he was no idiot. New York was New York. It's not like he'd see you on the subway. He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. He had fucked up, but he needed to let it go. </p><p>"Charlie, you jackass," he muttered, frustrated.<br/>
———————————————————————————<br/>
Across town, you were making dinner and trying not to check your phone. Your roommate, Dan leaned against the counter facing you. </p><p>"Hey, pussycat. You seem tense."</p><p>You rolled your eyes as Dan plucked a bell pepper from the pan and popped it into his mouth. </p><p>"I'm fine—just antsy."</p><p>"Why? What's up?" he said, concern in his voice. He went to grab another morsel from the pan and you swatted his hand away. </p><p>"I met someone today," you replied, quietly.  </p><p>Dan raised his eyebrows and covered his mouth excitedly. "Okay, okay, now we're getting somewhere. Spill."</p><p>He hopped up on the counter as you cut the heat to the stove and picked up your wine glass. You avoided his gaze, swirling the red liquid around a few times. </p><p>"His name is Charlie."</p><p>"Is he hot?" You looked over at him. Dan was grinning. </p><p>"Is that all you care about?" You said, smirking. </p><p>He shouted your name playfully. "Is he hot or is he hot? Tell me."</p><p>You chuckled. "He is very handsome."</p><p>Dan kicked his feet. "I knew it. I had a feeling he was hot. Tell me more. Do we like him? Is he rich? Does he want to be your sugar daddy and take us away from here? How did you meet?"</p><p>You sipped your wine. "He kind of—collided with me. I had gone to get a coffee and as I was coming out of the shop, our bodies crashed into each other. Well, he sort of crashed into me. I don't think he was paying attention to where he was going. He was on his phone and seemed like he was in a hurry."</p><p>Dan took your glass to take a sip. "And what does this Charlie, was it?" You nodded. "What does Charlie look like?"</p><p>You poured more wine for the two of you. "He's very tall. Like the tallest person I've ever met. Dark hair. Soft full lips. Striking nose. And...his voice is..."</p><p>"Someone is a smitten kitten," Dan interrupted causing you to blush. "So what happened next? Did he apologize? Impregnate you? Propose?"</p><p>You nearly choked on your drink and gave him a glare. "He bought me coffee to make up for practically bulldozing me and there may have been some flirting and an exchange of numbers."</p><p>Dan clutched his chest. "Ugh. To be young and in love...well, to be in love anyway," he said as he smiled. "So, what's next? When are you seeing him? When's the wedding?"</p><p>You picked up your phone from the counter. "I honestly don't know. I texted him my number because his hands were full. He was carrying an insane amount of coffee and I know he got it because I heard the notification, but I don't know."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>You shrugged. "I don't know."</p><p>"Did he seem interested?" He asked, trying to understand. </p><p>You nodded. "He was the one who asked if we could swap information."</p><p>Dan crossed his arms. "Then why wouldn't he text you? Or even call for that matter? Is he old fashioned or something? Did you get that vibe?"</p><p>"Not at all." </p><p>He took you by the shoulders and said your name softly. "You are an incredible person and you're gorgeous. Of course he's going to call. He'd be an idiot not to." Dan peered over you to the stove. "Let's wrap that up and order some pizza, what do you say? We can watch a movie to distract you." </p><p>You glanced down at your phone one more time. "Pizza sounds great."</p><p>Two hours, another glass of wine and a couple of slices of pizza later, you were checking your messages again. </p><p>Dan was nursing his wine and polishing off the garlic knots when he noticed your focus was no longer on Diane Keaton. "If you want to talk to him that badly, why don't you call?"</p><p>You set the phone down next to you. "I don't want to seem desperate."</p><p>Dan scoffed. "Oh my god, you precious peach. You're not texting him a nude. Just send the man a text...unless you think the nude would be more tasteful. You can borrow my ring light."</p><p>You laughed and decided he was right. You didn't have to wait.<br/>
-—————————————————————————<br/>
After mourning his lost connection with you and deciding that beer he wanted was well deserved, Charlie had fallen asleep on the couch. He had put a record on and something about the gentle sounds of<br/>
Herb Alpert mixed with the warmth of alcohol knocked him out. </p><p>On the table, his phone buzzed loudly a few times causing him to stir. He looked around before settling back against a cushion and going back to sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Missed Connections</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A/N: If you'd like to hear the show Charlie is working on, the 1993 Broadway cast recording of The Goodbye Girl is available on Spotify. Music makes things more emotional and real for me so I thought others might enjoy too. Happy reading and thanks for the love!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>———————————————————————————</p>
<p>Little by little, the sounds of the city became louder.  When Charlie finally woke up, it was 5am. He had crashed hard. As he sat up, pain radiated through his whole body. Couches in your 30s tended to be less forgiving on your back. This something he had learned all too well when he and Nicole were going through the divorce and, at 37, it was no different. He headed to the shower, grateful that the hot water would help soothe his aching muscles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>By 6, he was ready to head out for the morning. He didn't have to be at rehearsals until at least 8:30. He sent Henry a good morning email hoping it wouldn't wake him up and gathered up his things. He knew it was a long shot, but Charlie planned to go back to the coffee shop where you met in hopes you'd be there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once he arrived, he sat for as long as he respectfully could, making sure to buy more than one item and add to the tip jar accordingly. Every time the door opened, he'd glance over hoping it would be you. But it was no use. You weren't showing up and he knew that. Charlie also realized his tactic could be viewed as uncouth and the last thing he wanted to do was be perceived as some perv who stalked you all the way back to the coffee shop because he lost your number—even if part of it was true.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He tried taking his mind off of you for as long as he could, looking over the scripts and various music numbers. He was mouthing the lyrics to different songs and making lists of interchangeable vernacular to add in songs and dialogue where things were of poor taste or generationally stunted. He knew Kip, Audrey, and the others would be able to improvise later during the full run, but for now Charlie wanted to make things as easy as possible so everyone could fully become their characters.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He waited as long as he could. Around 8:15 he gave up. You weren't coming. It was time to get to work.</p>
<p>———————————————————————————</p>
<p>You didn't wake up until 9. You were grateful you had requested the day off because wow were you hungover. You had remembered to take ibuprofen and to down an obscene amount of water before you passed out, but it was all for naught. You walked to the bathroom to shower and brush your teeth. Freshening up made you feel a little more human, but the dull ache in your head made you want to die.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As you were styling your hair, in waltzed Dan chipper as ever. He was singing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Good morning! Good morning! It's great to stay up late! Good morning! Good morning to you!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You cringed and shushed. He frowned and booped your nose. "Awww. Too much booze plus loud sound make Baby's head go boom?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You mussed his hair, eliciting a shriek from him  causing your head to pound even more. He said your name, whining and shaking playfully. “You know I’m meeting Ted later.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You took a sip of the bottle of water you had on the counter. “Ted?” you asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan took your hands in his. “Just the hunkiest little ensemble member I’ve had the pleasure of...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You smiled. “Well, anyway,” he continued. “We met at Marie’s Crisis a few weeks ago, had a couple of very steamy encounters, and let’s just say the Rockettes aren’t the only ones who can get their legs over their heads.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You curled a piece of your hair. “So you like him?” you teased.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan bit his lip. “He might be 5’7, but no part of him is in short supply.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You sat down the styling wand. “What was all of that about being young and in love last night?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan shrugged. “Oops? Also we’re not exclusive. I have it on good authority we both hooked up with Fiyero last month. Respectively.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You back leaned on the counter crossing your arms. “So you’re meeting him later?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan nodded. “We’re having lunch together and he wants me to meet him at the dance rehearsals for some show he’s in. It’s supposed to go into previews soon. If it’s any good, I can see if he’ll get us tickets.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You lightly tapped his arm and went back to curling your hair. “Well have fun. Be safe.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan booped your nose again and left.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You took this as an opportunity to see if there was any word from Charlie, but sadly nothing had changed. Maybe he wasn’t as interested as you had thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Get it together,” you uttered softly to your reflection, almost like a prayer.</p>
<p>———————————————————————————</p>
<p>Back in a studio across town, Charlie was stressing. One of the ensemble members had sprained an ankle the night before and a swing had to step in. A part of him was worried that the show, much like his life, was beginning to fall apart little by little. He had snapped at one point and found himself apologizing profusely.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As the cast sang “Richard Interred”, he felt the lyrics hitting a little too close to home, almost mocking him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>This is brilliant</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s a once in a life achievement</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s a vision that I believe in</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s a seminal work of art</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>How amazing</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This theatrical trail I’m blazing</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s a miracle I created</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It’s a wonder I was ever underrated</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was deeply concerned this run would go poorly. He worried he was going about putting the show on all wrong.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>If we run one week, I can file for unemployment</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They didn’t preview in Chicago and didn’t plan to. Straight to previews on Broadway. His cast was strong. He trusted them, but at the end of the day he wasn’t sure he trusted himself. He was lost in thought as the cast sang on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soon, the music became lighter and the lyrics did too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>I know I can play this part</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was a welcome change to the intensity of the rest of the song albeit short lived. Charlie realized he had to snap out of his funk as the end of the song soon crescendoed. The cast deserved better and so did their future audience members. He could do this. They all could do this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The familiar tune of the “Entr’acte” filled the air. Once the piano stopped, the group rejoiced, clapping. They all looked so excited. Charlie felt like a proud father and it made him miss Henry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looked up and noticed the cast was waiting for any notes, a few spirit fingers and jazz hands in the mix.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Charlie laughed. “You guys were perfect!” They rejoiced. “Fucking phenomenal. Truly. I am so proud of each and every one of you. I have no doubt you’re going to blow everyone away on opening night.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He inspected his notes. “I think we have time to break for lunch. We’ll pick up where we left off when you guys get back in say...” he glanced at his watch “an hour and...a half? If you guys are willing to stick around a little later, take the extra 30. And remember! We’re going over the costuming schedule for tomorrow so please don’t be late coming back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He scanned their faces. “Anyone have any questions? Concerns?” He heard footsteps coming from behind him as he spoke. He turned around and took off his glasses. “Hi. Can I help you?” He asked, smiling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was Dan. For once, he was timid—and maybe a little in shock. “Uh...I...” was all he could get out. Dan could tell he was staring a little too long.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dan! Hey!” Charlie turned to see one of his dancers moving past a few people in ensemble.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan looked relieved. “Hi, you!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ted kissed him and became a little tense, embarrassed. “Sorry, Charlie. Dan’s here to take me to lunch. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Charlie shook his head. “We were wrapping up. No problem at all.” He offered his hand for Dan to shake. “Charlie. Nice to meet you, Dan.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan was practically gawking. He shook Charlie’s hand politely and then it clicked. This was your Charlie.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan realized his mouth was gaping open. “Charlie?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Charlie chuckled albeit a little awkwardly. “That’s me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan touched his hand to his mouth before gesticulating to Charlie. “Did you knock into a woman yesterday by any chance?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Charlie was hopeful, but confused. “Do I know you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan smirked. “No, but you know my roommate.” He said your name and Charlie’s countenance softened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Charlie said your name.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mmhmm. That’s the one,” Dan replied biting his lip. Ted and the others were eating this up. Everyone was pretty familiar with what Charlie had gone through. It wasn’t exactly all over Page Six, but Broadway was a more tight knit community than you’d think and word traveled fast.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan touched his arm. “You should really call her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Charlie was a little flabbergasted. “I—I don’t have her number.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan gave him a look. “She said she texted you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Charlie was at a loss. “I had some issues with my phone.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan was less than convinced, but didn’t want to potentially stand in the way of you falling in love or getting a little at the very least.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He airdropped your contact info to Charlie and patted him on the shoulder before taking Ted’s hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t fucking hurt her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Charlie looked down at his phone and made sure he saved your number this time, triple checking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey Dan,” he called out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dan turned around. “Yeah?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Charlie raised his phone slightly. “Thanks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>———————————————————————</p>
<p>Your headache had finally subsided enough to let you function when your stomach decided your body needed food. You knew exactly what you wanted and found yourself walking down the street about to your favorite cafe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You thought your mind was playing tricks on you. You kept hearing buzzing, but weren’t sure if it real. Then you felt the vibration. Your phone was ringing in the back pocket of your purse.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You quickly pulled it out when you saw his name there on your screen, “Charlie”.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You swiped to answer the call.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Beat Behind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey all! I know it's been a couple of weeks since I've updated. I'm hoping to post a few more chapters to this one over the weekend. Leave me a comment and let me know what you think. Do you like single Charlie? :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once Charlie had your number in his hands again, he wasn't exactly sure what to do with himself. He knew how this would have worked in the past. If you promised someone you'd call, if you were interested, you'd call. This always rang true for him in business and, as he was being all to frequently reminded now that he was dating again, it still rang true in matters of love.</p><p>It had only been a couple of days, so he at least had that working in his favor. However, be that as it may, he was no idiot. You were a vision. Depending on how put off you were by what happened, he knew he was going to have to make a date worth your while.</p><p>Too expensive and he'd come across as a pompous showy ass. Too cheap and he'd seem just that. He wasn't sure if he was putting too much pressure on the situation or if everything since the divorce had made him exceptionally cynical.</p><p>He wasn't sure about the little things, like if he needed to invite you back for a drink if the date was going well anymore. The line between hookups and great dates had blurred even more since he was off the market.</p><p>If the date was going well, did you continue with coffee now? A night cap? At one time, both had been code for sex. "Sorry, I've got an early morning." meant it wasn't going to happen. At least that much hadn't changed, for which he was grateful. There were just too many rules.</p><p>Charlie also took your age into account. Going on looks alone, you were at least 5-6 years younger, if not more. How would you feel about kids? Did you want your own? Would you be willing to date someone who was a father? Did it even matter to you? It's not like you'd be meeting Henry anytime soon. Not at least until you had at been together for a few months and Charlie knew you were serious.</p><p>He wasn't opposed to getting married again, but he wanted to at least try to enjoy the single life. He'd be lying if he said sex with another person wasn't high on the list of priorities. The only thing that came close to this dry spell was his last year of marriage. It would be nice to have someone want to touch him again. To feel wanted. Loved. Even appreciated.</p><p>
  <em>Were you looking for something serious? Casual? </em>
</p><p>His head was spinning and it was all his fault. He was psyching himself out before he even had the chance to dial.</p><p>"Get it together, Charlie." he said, running a hand through his hair. By now, the rehearsal space was empty. Everyone would be transitioning to the theatre soon and once that happened, everything would be moving faster than he'd like. He needed to get his house in order--which put another thought in his head.</p><p><em>What if you couldn't handle dating a director?  </em>Suddenly he was revisiting the dark corner of his mind he tried his hardest not to venture into anymore. All of those fights with Nicole about feeling neglected came rushing back. Her yelling, spitting words like nails into the proverbial coffin of what was left of their marriage. </p><p>"<em>Do you ever think about this family? Henry misses you. I miss you. Seeing you at work doesn't count because at work you're not a husband when you're barking directions at me." </em></p><p>
  <em>"Do you have to give me notes during dinner? I swear, all you care about is that goddamn stupid play." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"What about me, Charlie? What about me and what I want to do? When are you ever gonna put me first?! It's like I don't even know you anymore. And you know what? I don't know if I ever really did. You're--you're such a dick. You're so self-involved and you always have been. Nothing about what I wanted or liked ever mattered. Everything you care about is at that theatre. It's not here. It's not in this house or in this marriage. I don't know where it is. What happened to you? What the hell happened to us? "</em>
</p><p>What if you hated theatre? As a New Yorker, he thought that particular detail was probably unlikely but certainly not impossible. </p><p>He needed to stop and he knew it. He closed his scripting binder and looked down at his phone in his hand. Charlie realized he just needed to step back, take a breath, and call you.</p><p>He could "what if" everything all he wanted, but it wouldn't change the fact that there was no way to predict the future. He'd call and you'd answer or you wouldn't. It was as simple as that. </p><p>As he pressed the call button, he held his breath. </p><p>"Either she'll be happy to hear from you or you're the asshole who didn't call," he muttered to the quiet room.</p><p>It was ringing. Again. And again. Until--</p><p>"Hello?"</p><p>A wave of relief washed over him. You had actually answered. He said your name.</p><p>"Uh--um, hi, it's Charlie Barber...from the coffee shop?"</p><p>"Oh. Hi Charlie." </p><p>
  <em>Well, at least she's talking to you. </em>
</p><p>"How are you?"</p><p>"I'm good... You never called." You were quiet. </p><p>"I can explain."</p><p>"You're not the best with technology. Dan already told me."</p><p><em>Holy shit, word travels fast.</em> He quickly made a mental note that you and Dan were close, something he wouldn't let himself forget. </p><p>"I'll be frank."<br/>
"Why Frank? Charlie's fine with me," you quipped. </p><p>He huffed out a small laugh. He was grateful for the playful tone in your voice. <br/>
"I realize we didn't get off on the best foot...and not just because I knocked you over, but because of all of this. I know it's kind of been a mess, but if you're still willing, I really would love to take you out sometime."</p><p>"Are you free right now?"</p><p>Your question knocked the breath out of him. You were forward, surprisingly a little more aggressive than the shy flirt he met before and Charlie would be lying if he said he didn't like that. For a brief moment, he wondered you approached all aspects of your life the same way--under the sheets after dark in particular. </p><p>"Uh, yeah. For a little while, anyway. My cast is on lunch," he said, playing with the pen beside his binder. </p><p>"Dan mentioned you really were a director. I honestly thought you were kidding."</p><p>"Oh," he said, suddenly feeling unsure of himself as he willed Nicole's nagging voice in his head to shut the fuck up. </p><p>"I'm not disappointed if that's what you're thinking. I love Broadway. I, uh, actually tried to be a performer for a little while."</p><p>"Oh yeah? Do tell." Charlie sat down in his chair, giving you his full attention as he held the switched the phone to his other ear. </p><p>"Yeah. Turns out it's hard to be ensemble for anything when you can't dance. I have rhythm, but choreography for me is a little tricky." He could tell you were smiling. </p><p>"If it makes you feel any better, I can totally relate. I can't act to save my life."<br/>
"And yet, you tell others how to?"<br/>
"I even surprise myself sometimes."</p><p>You laughed. </p><p>"So, you were asking if I happened to be free right now?"<br/>
"Eh, I changed my mind," you teased.<br/>
"It's because I can't act, isn't it?"<br/>
"Yep. The thrill is gone." </p><p>Charlie chuckled. He was truly enjoying the moment with you. The only thing that would've made it better would have been being able to see your face. </p><p>"Let me take you to dinner."<br/>
"Well, if you're going to twist my arm."<br/>
"When are you free?"</p><p>"Tonight...or Saturday might work. Wait, do Mondays work better for you? Broadway's dark on Monday."</p><p>He was taken aback. "Wow. Do you---do you want to get married? And, it is, but we're not running just yet. Soon though."</p><p>"Good to know. And let's see how dinner goes. I only make lifetime commitments after dessert."</p><p>Charlie couldn't remember the last time he smiled this much. It must have been a while because the little he was doing was tugging at the muscles of his cheeks.</p><p>"Also, I'm thinking maybe I should give you my email just in case. After all, I wouldn't want you to not be able to get in touch again."</p><p>"I deserve that." <br/>
"I know."<br/>
"Hey..."<br/>
<em>"Hello."</em></p><p>Charlie was completely enthralled by you and your bantering. He soon realized if he even attempted to challenge you to a battle of the wits, he'd lose hopelessly--and, in some ways, he never felt more alive. It had been easy to numb himself the last couple of years with all things considered and you were a reminder that there was still light in the world. You were something to look forward to.</p><p>His phone buzzed. </p><p>"I just sent over my email. <em>Write it down.</em>" </p><p>
  <em>You were something else. </em>
</p><p>"We have a late night tonight, so if it works for you I'll make reservations for Saturday."</p><p>"Sounds perfect. And Charlie?" you said sweetly.</p><p>"Yeah?" he replied, lighthearted. <br/>
"I'm really glad you called."<br/>
"Me too."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. See You At 8.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie slammed you up against the wall. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as your mouths collided. Your hands met in his jet black hair as he moved to sucked at your neck, his teeth sinking lightly into your soft skin, marking you up. "Charlie," you moaned. Using the wall and his hips for leverage, he ripped your blouse open sending buttons flying everywhere causing you to cry out. He couldn't get enough of you. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."</p><p>He carried you over to the bed and all but tossed you onto the mattress before climbing on top. You grabbed him by the belt and tugged him over to you, your hands making quick work of unbuckling and unbuttoning as you palmed him through his pants.</p><p>"You want this big fucking cock, baby?" His breathing was ragged as he bent down to kiss you. You moaned into his mouth. "Mmm yes." Charlie trailed wet kisses down your neck to your tits, nipping at you through the sheer material of your bra before yanking down the cups and covering your nipple with his mouth. As his tongue swirled around one peaked bud, his fingers toyed with the other, taking it between them and pinching lightly. He was overwhelmed by the sounds spilling from your lips. His hand snatched up your exposed breast, massaging the supple flesh and causing you to moan.</p><p>Fickle fingers made their way lower to your abdomen, feeling lower still until they were shoving up the fabric of your skirt to expose your lace panties. He released your nipple. His mouth had business elsewhere. "Charlie, don't tease me." There was an urgency in your voice.<em> You were begging.</em></p><p>"Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you." His lips were on your pretty cunt now, tasting you through the lace of your panties. He pulled the fabric away from your skin, his teeth biting through to make a small hole.</p><p><em>"Charlie," </em>You moaned, tweaking your nipples. <em>"Please."</em></p><p>His hands came up to stop you. He shook his head disapprovingly. "Ah-ah. I never said you could touch yourself. Do it again and I <em>will</em> tieyou down."</p><p><em>"Fuck."  </em>Charlie chuckled. He thought of restraining you with his belt as he kissed your inner thighs. He worked his fingers through the hole he created in the lace until it was big enough to rip straight through your panties and tear them clean off. He lowered his mouth to your sex, his tongue licking slowly your slit causing you to whimper. <em>"Such a good girl. Already so wet for me." </em></p><p>He pulled your hips closer, his tongue languidly moving over your clit. Your hands found his hair again as you desperately moved against his mouth. Two of his fingers teased at your entrance before dipping inside of you. You gasped and rolled your hips. <em>"Please," </em>you begged again.</p><p>He hummed against your clit, sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth before teasing you with his tongue again. "Please what, baby?"</p><p>
  <em>"Charlie, please fuck me."</em>
</p><p>Charlie moved to stand up and stripped down before climbing back onto the bed. He pulled you closer by your hips and positioned himself at your entrance.</p><p>
  <em>"I need you inside me." </em>
</p><p>He slowly pushed in, filling you up, eliciting a gasp from your lips. His hips found a steady rhythm as he pumped in and out of your tight pussy.</p><p>"You feel so fucking good."<br/>
<em>"Fuck, Charlie."</em></p><p>—-<br/>
His hand began moving faster around his cock. Charlie imagined how loudly you were moaning for him, how tight and perfect you'd feel around him, all the while the water of the shower was cascading over his back. As one hand steadily worked his length, the other was bracing the shower wall. Your name fell from his lips. He knew it was wrong. He hadn't even been on his date with you yet, but he desperately needed release and he couldn't stop thinking about you.</p><p>He was close. He couldn't get the image of you taking his cock out of his head. He started fucking his fist harder, eyes firmly closed, and then he was cumming. He moaned loudly, his voice echoing on the bathroom tile as the cum spurted out of him onto his fingers. His breathing was erratic as he came down.</p><p>"Shit." Charlie caught his breath and rinsed off his hand, hoping the cum wouldn't cause issue with the drain. </p><p>Two more days. Only two more days until he got to see you and Saturday couldn't come fast enough. He only hoped that if you got as far as he did with you in his mind mid-shower that he'd last longer. </p><p>After a lot of debate and some input from his ensemble, Charlie had settled on making a reservation at Acme. He halfheartedly considered getting show tickets, but quickly realized it might be a little awkward spending two hours and a brief intermission next to someone you didn't know anything about. </p><p> He might have also found out the hard way that movies are best enjoyed after dinner and not before. His first real after the divorce lasted the full run time of the film. The movie he chose was so bad that she decided she'd rather not stay past the hour and 45 she "wasted" on her evening. Although the two weren't mutually exclusive, Charlie wasn't going run the risk of it happening again with you. </p><p>After he made the reservation, he emailed you the details. The mishap with your number still clear in his mind. He wanted to know you had everything you needed. As he worried the inside of his cheek, he found himself hoping you found his idiocy endearing rather than it being to his determent.</p><p>_______</p><p>Across town, you were getting mani/pedis with Dan in preparation for your date. <br/>
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"You should have seen his face," Dan smirked. </p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"I don't know if it was the realization that I knew you or exactly what it was, but I swear to you-- the man looked like I had just thrown him the lifeline of a lifetime."</p><p>"Tell me more."</p><p>"<em>Honey</em>, it was as if Rose had made room on that fucking door for Jack. We're talking full on RMS Carpathia realness. His giant puppy dog eyes just lit up like, "Oh my god. You know her? I'm so hot and horny. Save me."</p><p>You reached over as he giggled and gave him a playful swat on the arm. </p><p>"You know," he started. "Ted was telling me all about something of interest about him. Apparently Charlie had this huge nasty divorce last year or the year before. Whenever. The woman was this cuckoo bananas actress who to make his professional life hell."</p><p>"Why? What happened?" You said, your interest piqued. </p><p>"Word on the street was she was a lowkey bitch about the shows he was directing. I'm guessing she was high maintenance. Ted said she was nice enough, but in the same breath said she wasn't exactly a favorite amongst cast members so there's that. She was in the last play he put on though before this show he's working on now. Ted said he wondered if she got her bad rep by being the director's wife, but who knows. Theatre people can be catty. Also--Charlie apparently never talked about it with the cast or crew,<em> but</em> because he and the ex-Mrs. argued so much backstage, people kind of figured things out for themselves. </p><p>You looked like a deer in headlights. Dan sighed and continued.  "I'd say watch out for drama, but don't mind the grapevine, girl. Unless you're drinking the wine, ignore the bitterness."</p><p>"This is a lot of information."</p><p>"Look. I know it all sounds like a lot, but give him a shot. You said he was nice and you seem to be into him. And--now that I've had a visual, I can confirm that he is 100% your type and 100% hot and those are very good odds."</p><p>You leaned back in the massage chair and took in a deep breath before turning to look at him, your brow furrowed as you smiled. Dan could tell he had stressed you out and felt terrible about it. He leaned over and took your hand reassuringly. </p><p>"If you're really that hesitant, remember--it's just a date. You're not marrying the guy. Let him buy you dinner and take him for a ride. If you like how he drives and he treats you right, go out with him again."</p><p>You gave him a half-smile. He was right. It wasn't fair to Charlie for you to judge him without really getting to know him and his side of the story. All of the new found information had admittedly made you a little more tense about meeting Saturday, but you were almost certain it wasn't anything a glass of wine and good conversation couldn't fix. </p><p>_______</p><p>When Charlie woke early that weekend morning, he was met with an overwhelming sense of dread and anxiety. As he poured his cup of coffee, he had to tell himself to stop chewing on the inside of his cheek. His nerves hadn't been this bad in a very long time. <em>Eh, well, nothing a smoke can't fix. </em></p><p>He opened the door to the small backyard and sat down on the stoop before picking up his pack of cigarettes, putting one to his lips, and lighting the tip. As he inhaled and the sweet smoke filled his lungs, he slowly began to forget his worries. Exhaling, he could already feel the effects of the nicotine starting to work. He still felt anxious, but at least could feel himself slowly sinking into a state of calm and relaxation with every puff. </p><p>He wondered how you'd react to him smoking as the smoke from another drag rolled out of his nostrils. Charlie wasn't exactly sure when having the occasion cigarette had fallen out of fashion, but it was his vice to live with nonetheless.</p><p>As he neared the end of his smoke, he contemplated another and decided against it. He rubbed it out on the concrete and placed the butt in the empty bottle before walking to throw it in the trash.</p><p>He was dusting off his pants when he saw his phone light up with a text. It was from you. <br/>
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"Can't wait to see you tonight."</em></p><p> </p><p>In that moment, everything felt like it was going to be okay. Charlie typed up a quick reply and hit send. </p><p>"Neither can I. See you at 8."</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What do you guys think of Charlie's overactive imagination? lol</p>
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